Boggarts
by The-trio-until-the-very-end
Summary: "Boggarts, they take the form of your worst nightmare, right?" Ron realizes his boggart has changed from spiders to something so much more important


**A/N Hello! it's been too long! I didn't realize how much I missed writing fanfics until I noticed this draft on a forgotten folder and hurried to finish it. I'm even listening to a Romione mix on 8tracks to channel my inner shipper. I hope this is ok. Just a little one shot I thought of when rereading the scene where Molly Weasley sees all her children dead as her boggart. Enjoy xx**

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The trio had been stuck in the old Black house for days before they finally started roaming the place. Hermione enjoyed sitting in the study, though most of the books had been destroyed or faded with age. Harry stayed in the living room, with the legendary snitch fly around him. And Ron balanced in between the two most of the time. But sometimes he would wander around, up the creaky stairs and pass all the closed doors exploring.

In many ways, the Black house reminded Ron of his home. How terribly he missed the burrow, and all his family inside. The Black's had a much more haunting, dark, cold feeling about it though; while the Burrow was always full of laughing, the smell of home cooking and Weasleys. Ron thought about the rest of his family, they were probably all sitting around the giant table in the kitchen, his dad at the head and his mum by his side. There would be a shadow over the table though, for Ron's seat would be empty. Ms. Weasley would worry if her son had eaten a solid meal that day, or if he was even alive. Ron sighed as he started up the stairs, creaking all the way up to the study. He knocked on the slightly jarred door before hearing a small "come in" from inside. Ron opened the door to find Hermione huddled in an arm chair, her legs tucked under her and a book in her lap. He smiled and sat down in the matching gray on across from her. Ron ran his hand on fabric. "Is it just me or does everything in this house seem gray?"

Hermione gave a small smile. "It seems fitting though, doesn't it? The days to come are going to be our darkest yet."

Ron nodded, "Yeah."

Neither said anything for a while and Hermione picked the book back up and began reading. Ron watched as she silently mouthed the words she read. She finally took notice of him staring, "do you need something Ron?"

He shook his head, "sorry no. I was just wondering if you needed anything. Food, or a drink, maybe another book." Or he was fine with just sitting there watching Hermione keep reading to herself. Just watching her eyes follow the words across the page and her mouth moving as she read. There was nothing about this picture Ron would want to change. Unless Ron was sitting on the chair's arm right beside her.

Hermione smiled, "I could actually use your help! Last time we were here I noticed there were maps on the wall in another room upstairs, I figured we should at least check them out to see if they lead anywhere of importance."

Ron jumped at the change to help her, after all, there was a whole chapter in that book Fred and George gave Ron about how to volunteer and show how helpful you could be. Hermione thanked him and he rushed out of the study.

Ron realized Hermione did not actually say what room the maps were in, but he knew he would find it sooner or later. If Hermione wanted those maps, Ronald Weasley was going to get those maps. He walked in and out of rooms, glancing at the walls just long enough to see anything that resembled a map before moving on. The floors creaks and Ron would mumble words of encouragement to himself to keep moving. The last thing he wanted was to let Hermione down. His mind flashed back to the night of Bill's wedding, seeing Krum and Ron's impulse to not let Hermione leave his side to visit her lost penpal. Sure. He may have been a bit rude but Ron did not want a harsh repeat of fourth year. Things had changed and they had grown and been through things that daft Krum would never understand. A voice behind him brought him back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Ron?"

He was standing in the doorway of an empty room and turned to see Hermione walking down the hall towards him.

"I just realized I didn't tell you what room I saw the maps in." She told him walking up and peering into the room "no." she whispered before moving on. "It was…" She paused trying to remember, "This one." She pointed to what Ron thought was the exact door they were still standing in front of a door a few rooms down. Ron led her to the door, truly amazed that she knew where the maps were in this huge house. But then again, Hermione remembered everything. Ron opened the door and the couple stepped inside. This room, unlike the last one, was overcrowded with furniture lined up against the walls. A huge dark wardrobe was on the opposite wall and on the left wall was a daybed with tattered sheets with maps stuck on the wall above it.

"Look, there they are!" Hermione proclaimed, squeezing between Ron and the door to hurry to the wall. "Ron?" She called behind her, already trying to study the lines drawn. "Would you mind tearing them off the walls, I'm not tall enough and this bed doesn't look sturdy enough for me to stand on?" No answer. "Ron." The witch said again, a bit more annoyed.

"Hermione." Ron whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

Hermione turned to see Ron frozen in the same spot, glancing at the floor. She followed his gaze and let out a cry when she saw it. Right in front of the wardrobe was a body. Hermione's body; battered and bruised. She had a gash in her shoulder and blood was pooling around on the wood floor.

Ron spoke again. "Hermione." It couldn't be. She could not be dead. He would never let that happen to her. He could hear someone trying to talk to him, but it sounded like he was under water, the voice was muted and his vision was starting to blur.

Hermione was still not over the shock of seeing her dead self but was more surprised than anything. It wasn't possible. She started racking her brain, trying to think of what magic was at play here. "Ron!" She shouted to him, trying to draw his eyes away from the body. "Ron isn't not real!" She tried again. But instead of turning towards her, he fell to his knees beside the figure. He said her name again. "RON! RON!" she thought to herself, trying to figure this out. She prayed this wasn't some type of prediction of the future. Suddenly she got it. "Ron it's just a Boggart! It's just an allusion!" She stepped towards the creature as she pulled her wand out of her pocket, "_Riddikulus!"_ She shouted to the boggart, hoping the spell would still work even if it wasn't her fear in front of her.

Suddenly instead of covered in bruises and blood, Hermione saw her dead self, wearing the hideous yellow fluffy dress her mother bought her for Christmas with her hair braided in pigtails. She chucked at the ensemble as the boggart dissolved into gray smoke and poured back into the wardrobe. Hermione looked back at Ron. He was still on the floor, staring at where the body was at just moments ago. Not knowing what to do, Hermione sat down in front of him. "Ron?" She spoke softly. He finally looked at her, tears in his deep coffee eyes.

"I- it was a boggart?" he asked, his voice shaky.

The witch nodded, reaching her right hand out to rest on his. "Yeah. It's gone now. Are you ok?"

Ron glanced down at their hands before clearing his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I am. All thanks to you." He smiled at her and she returned it. Ron picked himself up off the ground and once he was standing reached his hand down to Hermione, who quickly took it. Without a word, or the maps, the two left the room holding hands and Ron locked the door behind them. Ron abruptly stopping a few feet later. "Boggarts, they take the form of your worst nightmare, right?" Hermione just nodded, so he continued, "I guess I should have figured that it would change to that at some point. I'm sorry you had to see that. I just-"

"Ron it's ok." Hermione interrupted, squeezing his hand. But he shook his head.

"No it's not Hermione. It used to be butterflies and suddenly it's you. I didn't even realize loosing you had become my biggest fear. But at the same time that's all I can think about." Ron wasn't back to being emotionally able to have this conversation now, but he couldn't stop the words coming. "After Sirius and that whole fight at the ministry or Dumbledore or the night at the bloody wedding, I realized what a fine line we are on. If you don't make it-" But Ron's rant was interrupted by Hermione who leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Ron was able to catch just enough sent of perfume and the smell of mint as she lingered before she leaned back.

"Thank you." She breathed. "But you have nothing to worry about. I'll be fine." She smiled reassuring him once again.

"I know you will be. But I promise, I won't ever let you in harm's way." He told her, vowing right then and there, a silent oath he had personally taken years ago. But now it was a different game, they were in uncharted waters with nothing but a few hints to guide them. He rubbed his thumb over Hermione's small hand, "I promise."

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**There you go! It's been ages since I've wrote a happy piece. When you read the last bit, If you image images of Hermione being tortured at the Malfoy Manner, it adds a bit more saddness. I basically made myself sad thinking about that scene. **

**_Reviews are like starting senior year xx_**


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